“It’s just baby acne,” his doctor told me time and time again. His cheeks blossomed with red bumps that turned into wide, angry abrasions. I was instructed to put steroid cream on his cheeks once, twice, three times a day, but the redness spread until it covered his entire cheeks, upper lip, and chin. The old ladies who stopped me in the store meant well, but every time I was asked, “What’s wrong with your baby?” I bristled in defense.

Weeks went by and then months, and my baby gained control of his arms. He raked at his itchy face, drawing blood to the surface. We trimmed his nails daily and bought special mittens so he couldn’t scratch himself. Instead, he rubbed his face on the carpet, on the mesh panels of his Pack ‘n Play, against anything that offered friction and calmed the terrible itch under his skin.

I stopped posting photos of him on social media because every photo was mercilessly flooded with comments asking what was wrong with him. I took photos every day and sent them to my husband at work, asking constantly, hopefully, “Doesn’t he look better today?”

RELATED: To the Mom Who Just Received Her Child’s Hard Medical Diagnosis

At five months old, we took him for allergy testing. Since his big brother has allergies, we hoped it would be something like a milk allergywe’d handle that easily.

Everything came back negative. Our hopes of allergies were dashed, and we were left wondering what was wrong with our baby.

After allergy tests and dermatologist visits (confirming it was eczema), we were no closer to finding out what was causing this eczema. Hundreds of dollars were spent on creams and lotions. We cut out any foods that might exacerbate it. We forced foul-tasting steroids and antibiotics down his throat. We slathered him in steroids day after day.

While playing at the library, I put him down on the ground, and he pulled himself over to an older baby. With a glare at me, the mother scooped her child up and looked at my son with ill-disguised disgust on her face. She looked at my son as if he was contagious or dangerous.

RELATED: To the Woman Who Commented on My Baby’s Weight

That day, I broke down and sobbed as I typed a long message on my local Facebook mom group. I posted photos and responses of comfort flooded in.

With every response, I cried more until I could hardly see the screen in front of me. They gave me ideas of products to try and things to research.

The next day, I stopped using steroids. He had been on hydrocortisone three times a day since he was six weeks oldit had been over seven months of nonstop use. His skin wasn’t improving with the use, so I decided to cut it out, call it a mom gut feeling. Of course, his skin got far worse as he detoxed from the constant use, but like magic, he seemed to level out. He was far from being better, but this was a good first step.

One day, while standing in line, I heard a little girl ask her dad, “What’s wrong with that baby?” The dad got my attention and gestured to the baby sitting on my hip. “That looks like it hurts!” I smiled and nodded, but didn’t respond for fear of breaking down in tears in front of this stranger.

RELATED: It’s Impossible To See the Hurt Within a Heart, So Please Just be Kind

Finally, we switched doctors. When the new doctor walked into the room, she stopped in her tracks as she stared at his oozing face. I had bloody smears on the shoulders of my shirt where he had rubbed against me for comfort.

“That’s eczema, all right,” she said. “But that’s also a severe infection. Let’s get this figured out.”

It felt like the clouds parted with this new doctor who seemed to genuinely care about our little guy. 

She prescribed an intense week of strong oral and topical antibiotics and respected our wishes to avoid steroids if possible. She listened to us as we talked about his symptoms, and after the visit, I cried in the car. I felt seen and heard for the first time since he was born.

After a week of antibiotics and a basic skincare routine, his skin started to clear. Every day, it got better and better. Soon, instead of angry, red, oozing rashes, we saw flashes of pink, healthy skin. His big, bright, blue eyes became the star of his face, and when I was stopped in public, I was complimented on my beautiful baby.

The photos from those early days still haunt me today. When I look back to a year ago, I tear up thinking about the utter hopelessness I felt, but then I search out my wild toddler to kiss his cheeksno traces left of the horrible eczema that plagued us for over a year.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Cassandra Kostuch

Cassandra Kostuch is a stay at home of four rough and tumble kids: Stella, Lennox, Mattimeo, and Tobin. When she’s not refereeing matches between the kids and wondering how her coffee got cold so fast, she’s writing short stories about her mothering experiences and lessons she’s learned from her kids.

Our Kids Need Us as Much as We Need Them

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy sitting on bench with dog nearby, color photo

During a moment of sadness last week, my lively and joyful toddler voluntarily sat with me on the couch, holding hands and snuggling for a good hour. This brought comfort and happiness to the situation. At that moment, I realized sometimes our kids need us, sometimes we need them, and sometimes we need each other at the same time. Kids need us. From the moment they enter the world, infants express their needs through tiny (or loud) cries. Toddlers need lots of cuddling as their brains try to comprehend black, white, and all the colors of the expanding world around...

Keep Reading

Your Kids Don’t Need More Things, They Need More You

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mother and young girl smiling together at home

He reached for my hand and then looked up. His sweet smile and lingering gaze flooded my weary heart with much-needed peace. “Thank you for taking me to the library, Mommy! It’s like we’re on a date! I like it when it’s just the two of us.” We entered the library, hand in hand, and headed toward the LEGO table. As I began gathering books nearby, I was surprised to feel my son’s arms around me. He gave me a quick squeeze and a kiss with an “I love you, Mommy” before returning to his LEGO—three separate times. My typically...

Keep Reading

This Time In the Passenger Seat is Precious

In: Kids, Motherhood, Teen
Teen driver with parent in passenger seat

When you’re parenting preteens and teens, it sometimes feels like you are an unpaid Uber driver. It can be a thankless job. During busy seasons, I spend 80 percent of my evenings driving, parking, dropping off, picking up, sitting in traffic, running errands, waiting in drive-thru lines. I say things like buckle your seat belt, turn that music down a little bit, take your trash inside, stop yelling—we are in the car, keep your hands to yourself, don’t make me turn this car around, get your feet off the back of the seat, this car is not a trash can,...

Keep Reading

So God Made My Daughter a Wrestler

In: Kids, Motherhood
Young female wrestler wearing mouth guard and wrestling singlet

God made my girl a wrestler. Gosh, those are words I would never have thought I would say or be so insanely proud to share with you. But I am. I know with 100 percent certainty and overwhelming pride that God made my girl a wrestler. But it’s been a journey. Probably one that started in the spring of 2010 when I was pregnant with my first baby and having the 20-week anatomy ultrasound. I remember hearing the word “girl” and squealing. I was over the moon excited—all I could think about were hair bows and cute outfits. And so...

Keep Reading

A Big Family Can Mean Big Feelings

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Family with many kids holding hands on beach

I’m a mother of six. Some are biological, and some are adopted. I homeschool most of them. I’m a “trauma momma” with my own mental health struggles. My husband and I together are raising children who have their own mental illnesses and special needs. Not all of them, but many of them. I battle thoughts of anxiety and OCD daily. I exercise, eat decently, take meds and supplements, yet I still have to go to battle. The new year has started slow and steady. Our younger kids who are going to public school are doing great in their classes and...

Keep Reading

You May Be a Big Brother, but You’ll Always Be My Baby

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother with young son, color photo

It seems like yesterday we were bringing you home from the hospital. Back then, we were new parents, clueless but full of love—a love that words can hardly explain. I can vividly recall holding you in my arms, rocking you in the cutest nursery, and singing sweet lullabies, just like yesterday. I can picture those times when you were teeny-tiny, doing tummy time, and how proud I was of you for lifting your head. And oh, the happiness on your face when “Baby Shark” played over and over—that song always made you smile! We made sure to capture your growth...

Keep Reading

“It Looks and Tastes Like Candy.” Mom Shares Warning about THC Gummies All Parents Need to Hear

In: Kids, Living, Teen
Hand holding bottle of THC gummies

What Aimee Larsen first thought was a stomach bug turned out to be something much more terrifying for her young son. Her 9-year-old woke up one day last week seeming “lethargic, barely able to stand or speak,” his mom shared in a Facebook post. At first, she assumed he had a virus, but something about his behavior just didn’t seem right. She called an ambulance and asked her older sons if their brother might have gotten into something, like cough syrup or another over-the-counter medicine. Their answer? “Yeah, THC gummies.” THC gummies are an edible form of cannabis that contain...

Keep Reading

My Child with Special Needs Made His Own Way in His Own Time

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother holding child's hand walking across street

I want to tell you the story of a little boy who came to live with me when he was three years old. Some of you may find this story familiar in your own life. Your little boy or girl may have grown inside you and shares your DNA or maybe they came into your life much older than three. This little boy, this special child, my precious gift has special needs. Just five short years ago, he was a bit mean and angry, he said few understandable words, and there was a lot about this world he didn’t understand. Unless...

Keep Reading

Dear Daughter as You Grow into Yourself

In: Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Girl in hat and dress-up clothes, color photo

My daughter, I watched you stand in front of the mirror, turning your body left and right. Your skirt was too big and your top on backward. Your bright blue eyeshadow reached your eyebrows and bold red blush went up to your ears. You didn’t care. I watched you marvel at your body, feeling completely at ease in your skin. You turned and admired yourself with pride. You don’t see imperfections. You don’t see things you are lacking. You see goodness. You see strength. RELATED: Daughter, When You Look in the Mirror, This is What I Hope You See I’m...

Keep Reading

Organized Sports Aren’t Everything

In: Kids, Motherhood
Young girl with Alpaca, color photo

Today I watched my little girl walk an alpaca. His name is Captain. Captain is her favorite. He’s my favorite too. I met his owner on Instagram of all places. She thought I was in college; I thought she was a middle-aged woman. Turns out, she is in high school, and I am a middle-aged woman. This random meeting led to a blessing. We call it “llama lessons.” We take llama lessons every other week. It’s an hour away on the cutest hobby farm. Our “teacher” is Flora, who boards her llamas at the alpaca farm. She wants to teach...

Keep Reading